


homerun

by 80slieberher



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Stenbrough, We love fluff, baseball stan?, soft, sorry his characterization is so SHITTy, we LOVE baseball stan, we love a dumb gay, we love bill denbrough, were here for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 22:55:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13557345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80slieberher/pseuds/80slieberher
Summary: “In which Bill attends one of Georgie’s baseball games and spots a really cute boy playing outfield at a different game.” -- credit to xlandloud on tumblr! based on the linked post (its fan art, its very cute i highly recommend you check it out)





	homerun

**Author's Note:**

> i literally only wrote this for 2 reason: softboystanley (on tumblr) said they wanted it written and they’re my fav, and bc these drawings are so cute i couldnt resist. i strongly suggest following the artist, their drawings are amazing!

based on [this post](https://xlandloud.tumblr.com/post/169444672130/in-which-bill-attends-one-of-georgies-baseball) by [xlandloud on tumblr!](https://xlandloud.tumblr.com/)

* * *

Bill loved his little brother - he would do anything for Georgie. If that meant waking up at 8am on a Saturday to go to one of Georgie’s peewee league games - Bill was happy to attend and cheer his little bro on.

So here he sits, not too high in the bleachers - his jacket pulled loosely around him and music blaring through his headphones. Georgie’s still in the box, not up to bat or on the field, so he figures it’s pretty useless to pay attention, and so adopts mindlessly observing his surroundings - the cheers of parents around him drowned out by his earbuds.

It’s not long before his eyes land on a figure in the outfield of the game one field over - his golden-brown curls illuminated by the sun, his eyes patiently trained in front of him, and a blue-and-white baseball cap adorning said perfect curls.

Bill’s heart pangs, and he quickly finds himself climbing down the bleachers, needing to get a better look at this boy in the outfield before he changes position.

“Billy!” He hears Georgie call for him from the box - and he stops momentarily at the fence, distractedly watching the boy to make sure he doesn’t move. “Where are you going?” His little brother questions, and he looks him over once to see him looking up with wide, concerned eyes.

“I’ll only buh-be gone a muh-minute, I promise,” Bill smiles at his little brother - because it’s true. He’ll only be gone a moment, won’t he? Back in time to see Georgie bat, hit the home run he’d promised he’d hit just for Bill.

“Fine.” Georgie agrees begrudgingly and Bill takes it, heading off again in the direction of the field and the boy.

He reaches the fence and he’d standing within 15 feet of the kid now - so close he can make out his features: pink lips that are slightly upturned into a small grin, cheeks ever so flushed, assumedly from running,  and hazel eyes that are - oh god, looking straight at him.

Bill looks swiftly and awkwardly to his left, pretending to be suddenly engaged in Georgie’s game again, and squinting for good measure. When he turns back, the curly haired boy’s eyes are back on his own game, focusing on the ball in the air and moving to catch it.

Now, Bill doesn’t know much about baseball. It’s fact. Bill plays basketball and runs track - he’s never touched a baseball glove or bat in his life, it never interested him (until now).

This doesn’t spare him any embarrassment when he finds himself reaching just over the fence to catch the ball that seemed to be coming right to him.

Within seconds of the ball hitting his palm, people are booing (some cheering, but mostly booing), but Bill doesn’t even notice - too distracted by the hazel eyes now only a foot across from his own, glaring at him.

“Whuh-whuh-wh-”  _Breathe, Bill, breathe._  “Why’s everyone buh-booing?” He finds himself asking, trying not to get overwhelmed by the beauty only just across the fence from him.

The boy raises his eyebrows, looking at Bill incredulously, “You just made us lose the game. If I would’ve caught that, we would’ve won.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m ss-suh-so sorry,” Bill feels his cheeks burn, “I duh-don’t know muh-mm-much about baseball.” He admit forcedly. The other boy is on the verge of cracking a smile before he turns around - away from Bill - when a name is called.

“Stanley!” A man’s voice yells loudly from across the field.

“That’s my coach, I have to go,” The boy - Stanley - tells Bill, holding his mit out for the ball Bill was still gripping in his palm.

“I’ll cuh-come. I uh-uh-owe your team and apuh-pology.”  _Stupid stutter._  Bill usually has it under relative control - not getting too frustrated with it unless he was  embarrassed or around someone pretty, which happened to be happening simultaneously.  _Of course_.

Bill puts his hands steadily on the bar and hops the fence, landing easily on the other side next to Stanley.  _Cute name for a cute boy._

“I’m Buh-Bill,” He introduces himself as he jogs to keep up with Stanley who’s walking curiously faster than him.

“Stan.” The other boy glances over his shoulder at Bill with a smirk, “You know, it’s a surprise you caught the ball, you were so busy staring.”

Bill doesn’t answer as his face grows redder - knowing he would stutter like mad if he tried to speak. So, he simply wordlessly follows Stan to the overhang - under which sat the team, judging by their outfits matching Stan’s, and what is obviously their coach.

“Stanley!” He barks, “What happened out there, boy?”

Stan doesn’t say anything, just crosses his arms and nods his head to his right where Bill stands.

Thankfully, Bill’s embarrassment had calmed down over the walk and he now looks to the coach with some confidence. “I’m sorry, I duh-don’t know much about baseball, sir.” He walks forward and hands the ball to the man, who looks at him with his mouth pressed into a hard line.

“It’s alright, son,” He speaks gruffly after looking Bill up and down, “No use crying over spilled milk. Stanley, show him out.”

“Yes, sir,” Stan nods, turning to Bill and motioning for him to follow, speaking again once they’re away from where the rest of Stan’s team sits. “You know-” But he’s cut off by the yelling of someone running toward them.

“Billy! Billy! You missed my homerun!” Georgie now stands in front of Bill with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed angrily, “I’d told you I’d hit one and you missed it!”

“I’m suh-ss-sorry, Georgie! I, uh, duh-didn’t mean to be gone suh-so long…” He itches his neck, cheeks pinking again - guilty he missed Georgie’s hit.

“A home run? Nice, man!” Stan is quick to smile, crouching down to give Georgie a high five. Georgie obliges, but looks back to Bill with a huff.

“Thanks! - Bill, I’m going to the car.” He crosses his arms, and Bill understands he’ll have to buy McDonalds on the way home to make it up to his younger brother.

“Cute kid,” Stan chuckles, looking at Bill from under his eyelashes in a way that makes Bill’s heart stir.

“Yuh-yeah, I’ll have to fuh-find a way to muh-make it up to him,” Bill smiles, not wanting to leave just yet.

Stan smirks again and holds out his hand, taking off his mit and tucking it under his arm. “Your phone.”

Bill has never taken his phone out so fast in his life. He unlocks it, handing it to Stan with a hopeful look, watching Stan’s fingers type something.

“I should probably go,” Stan turns off Bill’s phone and hands it back to him, “You should come to my game next week, but maybe in the stands this time.” He winks before turning away - but not before Bill catches the slight pinkness on the bridge of his nose and across his face, sure that it wasn’t due to activity this time.

So, yeah, maybe Georgie is mad at him and won’t talk to him the whole ride home - but Bill doesn’t think he could manage to tell Georgie what happened anyway.

Bill watches Stan walk away, and almost says ‘Bye!’ - but he’s distracted.

_Damn, baseball pants are underrated._

 


End file.
